


Angel

by Itch



Series: Have a very Sabriel Christmas (And some more for New Year) [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Fallen!Angel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, there is comfort in it, this is pretty sad but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5368895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is in trouble, and he goes to Sam for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trustyourdragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trustyourdragons/gifts).



A choked whine woke Sam up. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, and upon hearing the noise again he jumped out of the bed, pushing up the sleeves of the soft grey shirt he’d gone to bed in, and grabbing the knife he kept on the bedside table. Just in case. Everything he did nowadays was a just in case. Dean… Dean had Castiel. He had an angel on his shoulder to come to his prayers, to smite those who stood in his way. Sam had no such thing. The only angel he’d ever had was Gabriel. And he was gone. A cough, followed by what sounded like a splatter. Sam frowned. That wasn’t the sound of an intruder. At least not a healthy intruder.

 “Dean?” he called, pushing open his bedroom door and leaving the safety of it, knife in clutched in his right hand. “That you?” No answer other than another chesty cough. He swallowed, jaw tense and padded down the corridor slowly, until he got to the kitchen, and spotted a figure clutching onto the table, wheezing, the hand that wasn’t smearing blood - _((is that blood?))_ \- onto the table clutched to their stomach. As Sam lowered the knife - _((oh god that’s blood that’s a lot of blood))_ \- the figure raised their head, giving Sam a weak, but valiant effort at a smile.

 “Heya Sam.”

 

The knife clattered to the floor as Sam dropped it, running forward and cupping Gabriel’s face in his hands, thumb swiping at some blood on his cheek, eyes wide with worry.

 “Gabriel? Gabe? Fuck, shit it’s okay, you’re safe here, gonna get you cleaned up.” He swallowed at the sight of the blood - _((so much blood why is there so much blood))_ \- and wiped his bloody thumb on his boxers, dragging a chair over to let Gabriel sink into. “Gonna take your shirt off okay?” his fingers danced along the hem, but Gabriel snapped his fingers, stripping himself down to the dark purple boxers he was wearing.

 “Less fabric sticking more ahhhhh…” he groaned as Sam moved his hand, more blood dribbling weakly from the wound and Sam felt his head spin. He needed to get Dean - _((there’s so much blood help there’s just so. much. blood.))_ \- and he needed to do it fast. Without thinking he smoothed Gabriel’s hair away from his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Gabriel seemed to relax under the gentle pressure of Sam’s lips, the large hand still on the side of his head keeping his hair out the way.

 “I need Dean.” he whispered before running out the room.

 

It was night time. Sam sat outside, staring blankly up at the sky, stars - _((why did there have to be so much blood))_ \- blinking in the sky. He let out a long sigh, rubbing his arm. Gabriel was fine, Dean had put a bandage on - _((he stopped the bleeding it’s fine)_ ) - and he was sleeping. Castiel had told them Gabriel had no Grace left, he must have used the last of it to get to them. Guilt flooded Sam - _((why did I need Dean why couldn’t I help him why couldn’t I have done it alone))_ \- and the sick feeling returned to his stomach. Gabriel was back, back in his life after he thought he’d lost him. But he was sick, he was Graceless, he wasn’t Gabriel. Castiel couldn’t tell him why though. Was it due to Lucifer? Was it Lucier stabbing him that weakened him enough to be captured by Metatron? Was escaping Metatron the reason why he was bloodied and Graceless? Probably. In which case it was Sam’s fault - _((it’s all my fault in the one who did this I let him out the cage in the first place I’m the one who did this I’m the one that hurt Gabriel))_ \- and there was nothing anyone could say about that. Sam shook his head at himself, and went back inside, mainly to wallow in his own misery.

 

Gabriel woke up with a groan, rubbing his head. Graceless, he was cold, so cold that it hurt, fingers stinging, feeling like he’d just shoved them into a bucket of ice. He sat up, breath leaving him in a rush as pain shot through him like a bullet and he whimpered, hand coming to his stomach and - **((no Grace can’t heal can’t heal myself))** \- his palm rested over the bandage. He took a deep breath to quell the foreign feeling of genuine fear in his stomach before he stood, wobbling slightly and he padded out the room. The floor in the corridor was cold on his bare feet and he made a dissatisfied noise, turning and heading back into the room - **((need Grace how do I do anything without Grace))** \- and rummaging in a drawer, finding a stash of brightly coloured and patterned socks Castiel had obviously summoned for him. Now wearing one bright blue one decorated with bees and one pure white one with red hearts on he left the room, running a hand through his hair, - **((what am I supposed to do why did I even come here my hair’s matted is that blood do I just need a hairbrush))** \- looking around. He got to the kitchen and noticed a handprint on the table in red, a smudge, blood on the floor as he felt cold again.

 

Spotting a blanket on the sofa he grabbed it, wrapping it around his shoulders, shielding - **((oh god my wings my wings how am I supposed to protect myself how I have no wings))** \- himself from the chill. He stared at the wall blankly, only now realising the severity of what had happened to - **((I have no wings I have no halos I have no Grace this is this is the end what am I supposed to how am I supposed to))** \- him. It sunk in slowly, right from his chest before blossoming outwards like a bizarre flower, tendrils reaching to his fingers and pooling in the tips. He stared at his hands, his arms, his chest, pressing his palm over where his heart was, feeling the beat beneath him. He was human and it felt - **((I’m weak I’m powerless there is nothing I can do not for the Winchesters not for Cassie not for anyone))** \- unimaginably painful. He turned, walking back into the room he’d been sleeping in and dropping the blanket, staring in the mirror and crumpling to his knees at the sight of - **((gone they’re gone they’re broken and destroyed turned to ash and turned to dust the smoldering feathers that’re left cannot be saved wings of gold turned to wings of charcoal and nothingness))** \- the remnants of his wings. He hid his face, curling in on himself, ignoring the pain in his stomach as a weak sob left him.

 

Sam was walking past Gabriel’s room when he heard the noise. The small noise he wasn’t even sure he’d heard. He stopped, looking into the room, and he saw Gabriel - _((his Gabriel my Gabriel broken Gabriel poor Gabriel))_ \- slumped on the floor, head on his hands, blanket pooled on the floor around him.

 “Gabriel?” he whispered, and the angel - _((former))_ \- looked up at him, eyes wide  - **((can’t protect can’t protect))** \- and scared. Sam’s heart broke and he entered the room, kicking the door closed behind him and kneeling in front of Gabriel, moving his hair from his face, fingers brushing over his cheek and chin, grazing over the stubble. Gabriel looked like a deer in a set of headlights, terrified to the bone.

 “Sam?” he whispered, voice hoarse from disuse. He had - **((not your fault never your fault bright soul brightest soul I can’t see your soul))** \- so many things to say to him but he couldn’t say anything. Slowly, painfully slowly, he reached up, pressing his hand to Sam’s chest, a lump in his throat, tears in his eyes.

Sam looked at Gabriel’s hand, watching -   _((what’s he doing don’t touch me I don’t deserve to be touched by the archangel who I destroyed))_ \- every move he made until he was sure Gabriel wasn’t going to move again. Just as he was about to open his mouth - _((i need to apologise))_ \- Gabriel spoke. “I can’t… see your soul…” his voice shook, like there was more he wanted, or needed to say, but he was struggling. Sam raised his hand - **((don’t touch me Sam please I’m broken I’m so broken))** \- and laid it over Gabriel’s.

 “Gabriel, it’s - _((don’t say okay because it’s not okay one of the most powerful beings in the universe is helpless because of you))_ \- going to be alright.” Gabriel’s bottom lip wobbled and he slumped forward against Sam.

 

_**((i’m sorry.))** _

__

 “I’m broken Sam.” was all Gabriel could say, and Sam buried his face in Gabriel’s hair, clutching him close, being careful of the wound in his stomach.

 “What makes you say that?” he whispered back, stroking Gabriel’s back slowly, and Gabriel’s whole body shook with the force of a sob.

 “My wings are gone. They’re gone Sam. Turned to ash. Burnt away to cinders. And the rest of me feels so cold, but my wings- what I can feel of them is so hot.” his whole body was shaking as he cried into Sam’s shoulder, and Sam’s arms wound around him, lifting him up, setting him in Sam’s lap. Sam couldn’t do much - _((this is all my fault I did this I let Lucifer out I didn’t save him I didn’t save him that’s my job saving people and I couldn’t I didn’t save him))_ \- except for hold the ex angel and listen to his frantic whispering of ‘I’m broken, I’m so broken.’ and there was nothing Sam could do for him, nothing except hold him close.

 

It took Gabriel a while to calm down.

Not that Sam blamed him.

He looked up at Sam.

Tears on his face.

And Sam wiped them away.

Brushing a kiss the tip of his nose.

Drawing a smile from the former-archangel.

 

_((you’re still an angel to me.))_

**((you saved me from my own mind.))**

In the evening Sam carried Gabriel into the main room of the bunker, Gabriel refusing to stop clinging to Sam, not that Sam minded. As they sat on the sofa, Gabriel’s head tucked under Sam’s chin, watching the light from the coloured bulbs wrapped around the Christmas tree dance in the water in a glass, Gabriel began to talk.

 “It’s not your fault. I know you think it is but it isn’t. You didn’t mean for this to happen. I know that.” Sam nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment of the words being spoken.

 “You’re still my angel. Wings and a halo or not.” Gabriel too nodded, for the same reasoning as Sam.

 

Maybe neither of them were okay. Maybe it took them both weeks to start taking the small steps needed to conquer the fears. But that was okay. Because in those weeks Sam fell asleep in Gabriel’s arms as Gabriel sung Sam Enochian lullabies. In those weeks they sat outside and looked at the stars, pointing out constellations and holding hands, finger laced together, refusing to let the other go because what if they vanished, what if they lost something else.

 

In those weeks Sam and Gabriel came to terms with the fact they were broken.   
But it was okay.

Because they were broken together.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on Tumblr!  
> > synergygabriel  
> > whodoesntlovesabriel


End file.
